


can i get uhhhhh

by zuzuzukas_dream



Category: Danganronpa, Danganronpa trigger happy havoc
Genre: (shes bi actually but like. big preference for women), F/F, Fem Naegi, Mentions of Sex, Swearing, alternate timeline where junkos despair plan revolves around her class' graduation, i mean theres literally swearing in the summary, im sorry, junko can be cruel, may be ooc, naegis gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 03:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11348679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuzuzukas_dream/pseuds/zuzuzukas_dream
Summary: she goes to the hope store, she fucks the hope,(problematic junko actions but naegi has fun for the meantime? this is mainly a fic for me but yall can read too? very indulgent stuff. theyre third years, naegi is a girl with a crush, junko plans to end the world on graduation day)(also junko DOES find naegi cute and is attracted to her but she just also makes sure that she uses naegis crush to her advantage)(also surprisingly enough i dont really even ship naejunko)





	can i get uhhhhh

**Author's Note:**

> JUST WANNA MAKE IT CLEAR THAT LIKE. THIS IS MAINLY JST BECAUSE I REALLY WANT JUNKO TO KISS ME. im not defending any of junkos actions in this fic

"Makoto," she says. Initially, staring into her, Junko's eyes are genuinely widened in surprise. Then, they narrow, cheekbones lifting with a devious smile. She leans back in her seat and oozes confidence. "What a fateful encounter."

The shorter student giggles nervously in response, scratching her cheek. One hand plays with the blazer of her uniform. "I'm not interrupting, am I? You have... work laid out, so if you'd rather me come back later-"

Wide arms welcome her, and those stark blue eyes vanish behind thick, layered lashes. "Nooo! Come here, cutie! I'm just planning the end of the world. Nothing weird here!" Her fingers curl over and then stretch out again a few times in a childish show of grabby hands.

Face heating up, Makoto approaches. She's got that rose flush up to her ears and at the back of her neck, and her heart, troubled, beats against her ribs. "End of the world?" she asks. What an... incredibly Junko thing to say.

Her monster classmate picks up her slack and tugs her in with one arm. The other raises to poke Makoto's shoulder with a sharp finger. "Yup. I've got everything ready for our Graduation ceremony tomorrow. Perfect timing, right? At the end of our boring academic world is the beginning of the apocalypse. I should be making it a movie!"

Makoto's eyes skim, feeling intrusive, over the scattered papers before them both. Folders - presumably of work - and then notepads containing scruffier writing, often doodled upon or changed, are haphazardly strewn across. Does she work like this? The handwriting changes from page to page, and she wonders if Junko could be marking work from other students or something. She's so smart - that's probably it.

"It's all mine, Makoto. What, do you think I'm stealing work?" she says, as though reading her thoughts. When Makoto's head swirls around to respond, she notes Junko's offended pout and stammers. A bellowing laughter halts her. "Your face! You're so easy to tease, Makoto. It's adooorable, I might just puke."

She's so lively! "No, no - I just thought you'd--"

"Shush, shush. Let's leave my End of the World papers and how about you-" she punctuates the 'you' with a playful jab at Makoto's chest, "-tell me why you've got me all cornered in the library at such an hour."

A short breath of air sounds from Makoto as she tries to collect her thoughts. Confession? Not anymore. Junko still has her in a tight lock with one strong arm, making it all too terrifying to say such personal things. Or - maybe she decided not to the moment she entered the room. Is she really that scared? Man... It's been almost three years, now.

She hasn't said anything yet. The warmth throbs in her ears, increasing panic quickening her heartbeat. A questioning hum sounds from Junko, who then places two fingers at her neck.

"Ahh? What's this? Is Makoto getting all hot and flustered? Can't speak, can't breathe?" Her teasing tones are joined with wide, curious eyes. Blonde-peach hair bobs just above them as she leans in a little closer to a stuttering, writhing Makoto. "I think I know what this might be--"

This was a mistake. Makoto's cheeks are positively crimson. "Ah-- what? No, no, I'm just-" Excuse time. "I have a fever, it's nothing. What I was going to say was-"

It doesn't work. Junko leans back in her chair, tugging Makoto further into her embrace. Her hair gradually loops around her shoulders, and then both pigtails cascade across the back of the chair. "You can't hide it from me, Makoto. I know everything."

"E-everything...?"

"Yes, everything. I've been watching you."

She resists the urge to squeak. "Watching me?"

Junko's voice drops to dark and husky tones. "Yes, watching you. I've seen the way you look at me..."

"The- the way I--"

Junko tugs Makoto onto her lap fully, exasperation in her movements. "Are you my parrot now? Come on, Mako-chan, stop being so boring. You like me, don't you?" she asks, and Makoto, legs now awkwardly posed between the other girl's, sat upon her thigh, freezes almost completely. Then, she looks away, almost as if for an escape.

"You do!" Junko exclaims. "You do, you do, you do! That's so adorable!" Her teeth are so white, even in the artificial glow of the lamp. Pristine, contrasting with the deep, ripened red of her lipstick. Her smile then drops abruptly as she hooks a finger around her chin and adds, "But, of course, I knew that already." Then, it shines again.

How did she know? Does she-- does this mean..? Makoto's eyes widen, her gaze drawn back to her almost-three-year-crush. She wets her lips, as her nervousness has dried them out. "R-really?"

A red-tipped fingertip presses against those lips. "Really. You're the easiest person I've ever read. Doesn't that detective chick call it - uh - foolish honesty?"

"You say that like it's some sort of complex..." A soft laugh follows.

"Isn't it?" Junko laughs, her head now leaning into Makoto's chest. "You're stubbornly honest because you want people to see how harmless and sweet you are. It makes you less of a threat, making it easier to make friends and all that gooey, gross stuff." A shocked expression of something close to realisation tells her she's correct. "I'm smart, Mako-chan! Don't underestimate me."

Makoto's thoughts whirl inside her head. She hasn't ever thought so deep as that, but - that makes sense, doesn't it? Bashful, resisting a smile, she bites the tip of one of her fingers. It's as though Junko's been paying close attention to her. It's strange to think that somebody would care that much.

Abruptly, her classmate's chubby, warm hand takes her own from her mouth. "You're so quiet. Cat got your tongue?" Her gaze examines the peeled skin at the end of Makoto's finger, and the owner of said finger tries to pull it back. "You shouldn't do that, Makoto. Your skin's so soft."

"Ah-- well, I... It's just a habit, it's fine-- but--! Junko!" The exclamation shakes the silence of the room. Junko has taken the tip of Makoto's finger into her mouth playfully, eyeing up the way her green orbs light with shock.

"Since you like me so much, shouldn't this be fine? Or, am I ruining it for you?" she asks. There's a gentleness now, falling into her movements. She's soft, watching her ever so carefully. Makoto assumes she might be excited, or even incredibly happy.

She... had to ask the question, though. Another moment and she might never get the chance, with nerves that are so overactive.

"Hey - Junko, do you... Do you like me too?"

Junko's tongue stops in a little blep. She blinks twice and then presses her lips together as she thinks. It sinks Makoto's heart to see her have to contemplate it, but she still prays that there's at least something.

Then, a fire is lit in her classmate's eyes. Everything about Junko is sudden, but the way it appears - the almost audible fwumpfh of the flames taking hold - is startling.

"Yeah. I do," she says, tilting her head the other way. Her hand, slow and calculating as a snake, slithers against Makoto's. Their fingers interlock, Makoto's only doing so as a hesitant second. "I like you a lot. You're cute."

The wings of relief soar in the optimist's stomach, leaving her feeling sick with anticipation and excitement. "You... do?" she asks, and then immediately feels as though she's asked too many questions. "Well - well, I'm... I'm glad," she says. "I'm really glad."

A giggle meets her ear, to which she startles, having taken to staring at her free hand in a fist at her chest. Then, she shudders at the touch of lips. Junko tugs her in, squeezing her with an incredible tenderness. It has her tingling and flushing and tugging at her hoodie.

"See?" she says. "You're adorable. I can't believe I've waited so long to see you like this." One hand strokes her arm. "But, you know. Save the best 'til last and all."

"I-I wouldn't say I'm the best," Makoto murmurs, the strength in her voice fading to a meek whisper. The silence of the library intrudes in on her soft form. "I'm... just glad. It's my fault for not saying anything anyway."

Junko's squeal of delight cuts her off. She lets go of Makoto's hand to curl her fingers over, eyes closed, and grin. "I'm just so excited! I can't wait to see your face!" When? Cupping the back of Makoto's head, the edges of her other fingers tip toe up her chest. "Why don't you kiss me, Mako-chan? Haven't you always wanted to? Oh, I just wish you'd kiss me," she drawls, dreamily smiling up into a face that, if it were a kettle, would be emitting an incredibly, incredibly loud screech at that moment.

"Ah! I-- I..." How are you supposed to tell someone that it's your first kiss? "I haven't... kissed a girl before-- so, I don't really know if I can do it right."

Her face hardens, but not in anger. There's something more devious to it, now, in her rollercoaster of emotions. "Never kissed a girl, or never kissed anybody?"

"N... never kissed anybody," comes Makoto's weak response.

She invites her to sit upon the desk. "Okay," she says, still with that sly smirk. "Well. Take yourself a nice seat."

The papers, though. Makoto eyes the image of a little bear upon one of them. "Uh-"

A powerful hand sweeps them to the side, and the noise of crackling sheets fill the room. "Nevermind them! Who cares about them? It's just stupid work."

At least it isn't the work of other students like Makoto initially guessed. Anxiety slowing her, she awkwardly takes her legs from between Junko's thighs and scooches her butt onto the desk. It's cold and, where her skirt doesn't cover, bites against her skin. She realises that she should've worn tights.

"Is this okay?" she asks, and Junko's now stood, looming, before her. Her heart skitters to her throat and her fists begin to clam up with sweat.

Her classmate licks her (own) lips. Her figure, wide and imposing, lit around Makoto's shadow by the flickering lamp light, makes her feel incredibly small in comparison. She's thought about things like this before. It's almost a direct response to her own daydreams.

"Yup. Perfect," Junko purrs. "Just perfect." A warm palm comes up to cup her chubby cheek, and her thumb presses into it. It elicits a little coo of delight from the taller girl, and then there's another hand, cupping Makoto's other cheek.

She giggles, as though ticklish, and her hand comes up to her chest as she crosses her ankles over. "Junko..."

"Call me Junko-sama," she replies, one brow raised.

Now, she laughs louder. "Oh? Junko-sama? Wh- what am I getting into, exactly?"

"The girl who's about to fuck the world is about to fuck your mouth," she says bluntly, sending Makoto's entire brain into near-shutdown as though she's just logged onto the Pirate Bay with no adblock. Seeing that from the way her face contorts, lips parted, Junko gently leans in. "You could call me master instead, if you want."

"J-Junko-sama is fine," she murmurs, managing speech at last, almost crossing her eyes over as she focuses in on the wet shine of Junko's lips. They're so soft and thick, and - God, she's gay. "I don't mind..."

"Good," comes the deep reply. It rises, seductive, from well within her chest, sounding confident and powerful. Lashes flickering as she blinks, she looks across Makoto's expression at such close proximity. Then, she presses in.

The kiss.

It's startling, first of all. As though Makoto has only just fully tuned into this situation at all, as though waking up from a distant, dulled dream, her senses all heighten at once. The overwhelming aroma of perfume. Strawberries on her lips. The heat of the bottom of her back, where a hand sits to steady her and pull her in. The gentle tickle of Junko's hair as she dips her head back and dominates her form with her mouth.

Junko's mouth is hot. Hot in the way that it's seriously messing with Makoto's head, and hot in the way that she's just oozing a breathy heat against her skin, tickling her, teasing her. There's so little said, but Makoto hears the pleasure in her little moans.

There isn't just one kiss. After the initial connection, Junko chases Makoto as she retreats, hungry for more. There's no way Makoto would object. Her chest heaves, gasping between pecks and smooches and then the others - the long, slow, wet ones, where Junko slides her lips between Makoto's, where she plays with her tongue.

It's frightening how indulgent it feels. Makoto doesn't ask her to stop or press against her chest, her jaw. Not even her nervous shaking can halt the pleasure she feels, and even when Junko pushes between her legs to drag her closer still, she simply lets her, spreading them.

"Mako-chan, you're so needy," says Junko, looking down between them at the lack of space for Jesus. Makoto stammers for a reply, but Junko just trails her hand from her back to curl around her neck. "I love it. It's gorgeous." The light flickers in her eyes, those rings of blue illuminating.

Makoto's face is hot. "Hey, you're even more gorgeous... I-I can barely breathe," she whispers, smile twitching nervously. Her head bows momentarily.

The soft flesh at her neck glides up to her short mop of hair, Junko's nose running down her jaw. Makoto, a mess, goes to impulsively ask her what she's doing, before her head is tilted - not so roughly - back, and there are soft licks along her shoulder blade.

"Ah-- Junko-..." She bites. "J-Junko-sama," Makoto corrects herself, almost squirming from the embarrassment that sends her gut into twists of excitement. Her ankles overlap behind Junko's calves, thighs tightening around her absently. "How... how many times have you done this-?"

A giggle bubbles from her, the air ghosting along her skin. It tickles. "Not enough," she mumurs, testing again with her teeth and relishing the high-pitched moan that sounds from the girl beneath her. "Good girl... That's it. I want to hear you."

How far is this going? The words ring in her throat, panicked, but never make it past her lips. It might make Junko stop, and - well. She doesn't quite believe that's what she'd want. "Mh-mnn..."

The fingers at her throat tighten ever so slightly, digging into the skin enough to prick, but not to cause injury. One finger then presses Makoto's lips open to finger at her mouth and, hesitant, breathy, innocent, she licks along the painted red plastic. Within moments, she's sucking onto it.

"Good girl," Junko says again, unzipping the top of her hoodie to get access to more milky skin. It makes Makoto feel yet more exposed and awake, her breath hitching in a little mew.

She doesn't see Junko pause to look at her. No - she's too nervous to even have her eyes open, and instead one of her own hands has come to cover half of her face, squishing into her cheek and pulling at her lips. Delighted at the lack of resistance, and indeed the total enjoyment seeping from every little gasp and whine, Junko trails her nails - light, like the draping of a smooth fabric - down to her hips, and then to her thighs.

"Makoto," she starts, making sure every vowel is positively purred. "Are you going to let me take your precious thing?"

Green eyes reappear. "H-huh? My precious-- what?"

The taller of the two leans back, towering over her, but not looming into her space. She elaborates, not smirking, and not with any kind of glint in those orbs. "Well, I can't touch you like that unless you let me. I'm not a brute."

It's then that Makoto's initial guess is confirmed. She inhales, and then the air remains as it is for a few moments as she tries to formulate any kind of sentence. It's clear that she doesn't dislike the idea, but Junko seems reliant on a response. So, she tries harder.

"I--..." she breathes, looking down, tucking a lock of brown behind her ear. It's dramatic for her, for definite. Precious thing... Yes, she hasn't ever even been in the position to give such a possession away. So, why not now? The concept of losing purity is stupid anyways, right? "I-if... If you want--"

Just as she decides, however, the creaking of a door disturbs the quiet intimacy of the darkened library. It shrieks through, and the height of tension - the roses, the sparkles, the sound effects of twinkling and the Careless Whisper of their minds - drops to the floor.

"You did not just ruin my moment," Junko exclaims to the figure in the doorway. The light pours in, and her face is lit with a golden glow. "You did not! Just ruin my moment!"

"I'm... I'm sorry, sis," says the girl at the door. Mukuro? Makoto's eyes adjust to the light, and then she feels a whole new kind of embarrassment. The other sister looks instantly apologetic, shoulders hunching somewhat. A glance is sent in the direction of Junko's companion.

Makoto flinches at the cruelty that Junko starts to display. "Every single time I try to do something, you always get in the way. Can't you see we're busy? What about sister senses?"

"She isn't--! She isn't doing anything wrong, it's okay!" Makoto would love, an incredible amount, to scoot away from this situation. One of Junko's hands remains at her thigh, hotter than ever.

Both sisters are looking at her, now. She continues, squaring up into a small box of a posture. "I-it's fine, Mukuro. If you want to talk to Junko, I-I-I can -- leave for a few minutes." A small smile of truce is offered.

Mukuro still looks extremely downhearted, though.

Junko loops her arms around Makoto's shoulders and shoves her into her chest. "Ahh! I'm so sorry you had to see me yell like that, Mako-chan... I'm just so embarrassed for you!" She leans back, cuddling her face. "But if you're okay, then that's all good!"

Mukuro stays at the door, hair falling down her face as she stares at the floor. "I... didn't mean to bother you both. I'm sorry."

"It's--! It's fine! I promise!" Makoto calls, waving her arms anxiously as she tries to scoot away and leave the table of Not Safe For Work. "W-we aren't busy, it's fine!"

Junko sighs, heavy, and leans into her further. Halts her escape unknowingly. "It's okaaayyy, Mukuro. Mako-chan is a brave girl." When Mukuro responds with a gentle 'okay', Junko presses her lips to Makoto's cheek and adds, "We'll just have to save the rest for graduation, right?"

Picking up the joking tone and running with it to save her from her embarrassment, guilt and stirring lower abdomen, Makoto laughs a little too loudly and says, "What? When you destroy the world?"

She looks into her face with incredible focus. Mukuro's breath falters in her throat audibly.

"Yes. After the end of the world."

\--

Mukuro is visibly anxious. Her hands twitch at each other, gently clawing at her own skin. She hovers by Junko's side, having collected all of the papers and now needing something else to do in its place.

"What're you looming over me for?" Junko growls. She doesn't look at her, but notes the frustrating little movements in the corners of her eyes. "She'll probably still like you. She's dumb."

"D-do you really think that, Junko?" asks the older sister, now fidgeting with the edge of the desk. Nails press into its rich mahogany.

Her sister shoves her away - or at least tries to, as Mukuro dodges just out of her reach. "Aren't you going to go and do something useful? Or, are you going to just bother me?" It's only then that she looks toward her, pausing in her last-minute, hasty preparations. "Or, are you really so hurt that I messed with your stupid childhood crush?"

Now, the soldier goes quiet. "It's... not that," she weakly protests. It's futile, and Junko laughs her off. "It's not just that. M-Makoto... You told her about your plan? A-a-about despair?"

"Yes."

"And, now she knows? Do-- do I have to-"

"She's too stupid to take me seriously, dumbass!" Junko yells. "She just thinks she's getting laid afterwards. Which, I mean, I'd love to do, but I'm kind of expecting she'll be wet for other reasons."

Mukuro bites her lip, looking uncomfortable.

"Blood, sweat, tears," Junko continues. "D'ya think she'll still wanna?"

No. "M-maybe, Junko..." Mukuro meekly responds. Her voice barely manifests in her throat.

More loud cackling fills the room, and Junko heavily pats her back. "Ha! Man, you're butthurt."

**Author's Note:**

> pls dont send me anon hate uwuwuwuwu
> 
> abrupt ending cuz i can never end fics. gomen


End file.
